


Things You Said Through Your Teeth

by Kaslyna



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Medical Procedures, POV Second Person, Post-Prophets, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Root,” she says; on her lips your name is said with a certain force, a warning maybe, even when there’s nothing you’ve done to warrant it. You don’t mind, of course; you love the way she says your name (you love everything she says).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Said Through Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted months ago on my Tumblr and apparently never cross-posted. But rereading it, I liked it enough that I decided to remedy that. The prompt was "things you said through your teeth". Enjoy!

“Root,” she says; on her lips your name is said with a certain force, a warning maybe, even when there’s nothing you’ve done to warrant it. You don’t mind, of course; you love the way she says your name (you love everything she says).

“Root,” she’s saying now as she pins you to her couch by your bare shoulders, her eyes flashing with anger, “You’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep being reckless.”

You smile; you can’t help it, and your answer is pained, “She said if I didn’t the number would die.”

“It wasn’t a solo mission,” Shaw says, firm and resolute, “The Machine can’t have your back in a fight.”

“I’m touched, Sameen,” you say with a wickedly flirtatious grin; as expected, Shaw rolls her eyes and backs off, but there’s a crease in her brow and a hardness in her eyes like she sees right through your cavalier attitude.

There’s silence now as she works, and she doesn’t try not to be rough. You appreciate that; you appreciate everything about Sameen Shaw. The hiss you let out as she prods your ribs to see if they’re fractured or just severely bruised is only partially from pain. Goosebumps raise on your skin and you feel heat lighting low in your belly. You always did have a thing for pain.

She’s done now; there was one laceration above your left hip that needed stitches. The rest of the bruises will fade with time, and she says you don’t have any broken ribs. She’s looking at you now, head cocked slightly to the side as if she’s thinking through something, and you let her be, waiting.

“I’m teaching you how to fight,” she decides, finally, eyes challenging you to make a comment.

“Okay,” you say instead.

Shaw nods, as if convincing herself, “Okay.”

She lets you sleep on her couch that night.


End file.
